Brings Me Back
by 28andoccrazy
Summary: Their partnership had spanned more than a decade, but their relationship was changing so fast....can they continue to fight their feelings in order to save their jobs? A little EO angst, with some smut mixed in for good measure....:
1. Chapter 1

**First, let's get some business out of the way...**

**As always, I do not own these characters or anything related to SVU storylines....I'm just borrowing them for a while to have some fun with them.**

**This story is fairly Season 9-centric, with some later details added in. It focuses mainly on the struggle that Olivia and Elliot have regarding their ever-changing feelings for one another.  
**

**Please read and review....your reviews are the driving force to make my stories the best they can be. I'd like your input very much :)**

* * *

Olivia landed forceful punches, first left, then right. Over and over she continued her assault on the lifeless partner that hung before her. She wiped the sweat from her brow, moving back in for more. She ignored her screaming muscles-this pain felt better than the pain inside.

Her lungs ached, her chest heaved, but still she incessantly fought the partner that would not fight back, could not fight back. With every impact of her gloved fists, she imagined his face was the target. Anger seethed within her, renewed by her memories of helplessness, of complete submission. When she closed her eyes his face distorted in front of her, laughing at her, mocking her. She used up the last of her remaining strength, barreling punches relentlessly. She wanted to make him feel as helpless as she had felt in that basement.

She was eventually spent, and moved to sit down on the wall bench, trying to catch her breath. _How long have I been here, _she asked herself. She un-gloved and un-taped her hands, leaning her head back against the brick wall behind her. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, so she headed for the locker to retrieve her gym bag. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. She'd been sparring for two hours, and the ache in her legs and shoulders told the whole story. She decided she would rather shower at home, so she collected her belongings and headed out into the night.

* * *

She saw the silhouette of the person long before she could make out who it was. He was sitting on the front steps of her building, head in hands. She slowed her pace, caution taking over. But as she neared she realized there was no need for alarm. She would know Elliot's posture anywhere.

"El, I hope you haven't been waiting for me all evening out here," she said. He had not heard her approach, and jerked his head up in response to her voice.

"Hey, sorry," he replied, rising to stand on the step, so she had to look up to meet his eyes. "I, uh, just didn't really feel like going home, so I thought I'd check in and make sure you're okay." The exhaustion was evident in his voice.

The last couple of cases had really taken their toll on all of them. She was surprised she had actually had the energy to stay at the gym as long as she had.

Olivia pushed open the heavy door, making her way to her apartment. Elliot trailed in her wake. There was no permission needed to follow her in, it was understood that he was always welcome with her. And this left him with a feeling of comfort. She fished out her keys, unlocked the door and stumbled inside, the weight of her gym back throwing her off kilter momentarily. The stumble had only been slight, but as she sat her bag down, she felt the warmth of Elliot's hand on her arm. She smiled, because if it had been anyone else, the gesture would have annoyed the hell out of her. But somehow, Elliot's touch was always welcome. She smiled faintly back at him.

"I'm good, just got a little tripped up." He released her, sheepishly following her into the room.

He sometimes didn't like the fact that he was always so quick to come to her rescue, no matter how trivial or small the incident. He knew damn well she could take care of herself, but for some reason he felt the need to be her cushion.

She released her hair from the tie holding it, and stripped off her sweaty gym clothes. "Have you eaten yet?" she asked him. "I'm starving, for a change."

"Um, no-you want to get some take-out or something?" he asked in response.

She was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, and saw her faint reflected smile. _What the hell it is about him…._she silently pondered. There had not been a lot of smiling going on the past couple of months, for either one of them. Between Sealview and its aftermath, their regular case load, and his divorce, there just hadn't been too many things to smile about. But somehow, for some reason, he could always make her smile. And she knew that her effect on him was similar.

"Sure, you pick," she said back, wrapping a robe around her, "just no pizza. I'm sick of pizza."

"All right, where are your….," he stopped short. His back had been to her, so when she walked into the kitchen in just a bathrobe, it caught him off guard. The damn thing wasn't sashed very well, and he had a generous view of her chest, more than he needed to have. He detected a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as her mouth twitched slightly.

"My what, El?" she asked, almost teasingly. She paused a moment, enjoying his apparent discomfort.

"The take-out menus are on the counter," she said, knowing what he was referring to. His face reddened just a tinge, and he stood up, rubbing the back of his neck.

Walking over to get them, he met her eyes briefly. "Thanks," he said, with a little smile of his own.

"I'm going to get a shower while you take care of that." She turned toward the bathroom before he could respond, leaving him with a handful of menus and a dumb expression.

Olivia stood still in the shower, enjoying the warmth of the water. Her body was tired and achy, but tired and achy was better than numb. Her ordeal at Sealview had definitely changed her, and not for the better. But she pushed it back, did what she needed to do to function. It wasn't something she was ready to talk about, especially not to Elliot. She visited Huang like she was supposed to, but that was different. Seeing a shrink was required for her to return to duty. She was simply going through the motions in order to put it behind her and move on.

She closed her eyes, working the shampoo through her hair. She smirked slightly when she remembered Elliot's expression a few minutes ago. She really hadn't thought anything about traipsing in front of him in her robe. But after seeing his reaction, she knew she most assuredly should have.

Their relationship was undergoing a change, to say the least. Things had been difficult for a while—her evasiveness, his family issues. Slowly, however, they were beginning to rediscover the chemistry that had held them together for so many years. But it was different this time. They weren't just partners, or even just friends. But what were they?

Physically, they had never shared anything more than a hug. But the storm was always there. Anytime they were in close proximity, it could be perceived by both. Neither of them labeled it or even openly acknowledged it, but it was there nonetheless--a quiet churning energy, greater than comfort or respect.

She stepped out of the shower, toweling off. She slipped on some lounge pants and a tank top, and went to join Elliot in the living room. She started to speak, but the words stopped short when she rounded the corner. His head was laid back on the couch, his eyes closed. Cocking her head to the side, all she could do was watch him. Elliot--the raging cop, the stern father, the tough interrogator—was quite peaceful-looking when he slept.

She stepped softly around to sit beside him on the couch. She fought back the incredible urge to reach out and touch his cheek. This man--the only man in her life--had come to mean so much to her, especially in the last few years. They had been through so much, and still they remained. Many changes had occurred, some good, but most bad, and she knew that theirs was a bond that could never be broken. No amount of anger or harsh words, or even periods of separation, had permanently damaged them. And there was _no one else_ she could say that about.

She leaned back on the couch, continuing to watch him sleep. Even though her movement was slight, it was enough to bring him back. He glanced over at her, his eyes heavy with sleep.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, "didn't realize I was so tired, I guess."

She simply shook her head, "I was just going to let you rest. You looked so peaceful."

He smiled, admiring her casual attire and still-wet hair. He loved that she could be so at ease around him. Without makeup and without her work clothes—she still was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"What?" she asked, feeling the burn of his stare.

He just shook his head, not wanting to muddy the waters with an awkward conversation, at least not tonight.

"Thanks for letting me hang out here for a while," he said. "I'm just…..still not really adjusted to living alone, I guess." He laughed strangely, "Not that it's really any different. I mean, I was hardly ever home anyway."

Olivia pursed her lips, absorbing the pain hidden in his words. "But there was always the knowledge that you had somewhere to go," she replied softly.

He nodded. He was amazed how she always knew without knowing.

"How are the kids doing?" she asked, settling back, one arm propped on the back of the couch.

"Well, they're kids, ya know. At their age, they're so busy with their own lives…." Elliot trailed off. "To be honest, I haven't really talked to them much about it. Guess they got so used to not having me around they've just found their own ways to cope."

Olivia sat quietly, just wanting to listen. "Me and Kathy….," he continued, "We grew apart a long time ago. I mean, it got to where we couldn't even be in the same room without having a shouting match. But still, everything's just so different now. I've been married so long--I don't know any other life."

His marriage was something that they rarely discussed, for one reason or another. But she was touched by his frankness in talking about it tonight.

"I know, El, and I'm sorry that it happened," she lied. "But I think that it could end up being a good thing for both of you."

He rose from the couch, going into the kitchen. She wondered if she had said too much. "I sure hope you're right, Liv." He retrieved two glasses from the cabinet, and found some wine in the chiller.

Olivia watched him, strangely comforted by how Elliot knew his way around her kitchen. He had probably spent more time here than at his own house, and she knew that that fact had more than likely had a negative impact on his life with Kathy. Although Kathy had known and vaguely accepted Elliot and Olivia's partnership, it was something that she was never able to completely come to terms with. Not that Olivia could blame her.

But in ten years, nothing had ever happened between her and Elliot. Whenever he visited, it was usually because of a tough case or assignment. But the buck always stopped there. They had never, in any way, been unprofessional in their partnership. But, as Olivia pondered their just-finished conversation, she wondered how much longer that would be the case.

He returned to the couch, wine glasses in hand. She accepted, pushing the last thoughts from her mind.

"So, Liv," she heard him say, "how are you _really_ doing? I mean, you may be able to pull that old smoke and mirrors crap on the rest of the world, but," he emphasized, pointing to himself, "this is me you're talking to now. We've not really talked about it, since," he stopped, both knowing what he was referring to.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, refusing to meet his gaze. She took a long sip from her glass. "El, I know, I just…..I just don't see how talking about it is going to help. I mean, it sure as hell isn't going to change anything, so…" her words trailed to silence. "I'm just learning to do what I have to in order to do my job and move on."

Elliot was silent for a while, and she feared that her refusal to talk had made him angry. But when she looked up at him, there was no anger painting his features.

"Liv, if I could've been there, Harris would be a dead man. And I know that if you can't even talk about it to me, then it must've been terrible. I just want you to know that I'm sorry. If I'd had any idea, I never would have gone along with that assignment." His compassion was deep, and it brought soft tears to her eyes.

"Elliot," she said gently, not wanting to cry, "It wasn't your place to save me. I was doing my job, and it just went really, really wrong. There was nothing you could've done. Nobody expected it, least of all me. I knew the risk I was taking when I agreed to go under."

"I could've choked the life out of him," Elliot said, leaning toward her slightly. "And it's always my place to save you. You're my partner, right?" This caused her to smile weakly; his need to protect her was ever-present, but strangely not unwelcome by her.

"It's over with now, and I just want to get on with my life," she replied, meeting his gaze finally. "And I promise I will tell you everything," she paused, swallowing a sob, "just not tonight."

He resisted the urge to gather her up in his arms. Instead he replied, his voice thickly emoted and sincere, "I'm always here, Liv. Doesn't matter if it's 3 in the morning on a Tuesday, I'm here."

She smiled, an inexplicable calm flowing over her. She knew that he was there for her. She had always known that. But something about his words at this moment—it was all she needed.

"I know, El, I do. And you'll never know how much it means to me."

They didn't speak for several seconds, just stared. A silent conversation was taking place, one that had been screaming to be heard for a decade now. Elliot's eyes studied her face, her mouth, the curve of her jaw, and used all of his restraint not to stroke her face, kiss her mouth.

There was a line somewhere, one that they had always been so careful not to cross. But that line was getting harder and harder to recognize. Olivia's head felt swimmy, her heart beating just a little faster. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were silenced when the doorbell rang.

The spell was broken, but still they both stared.

"Food's here," she said, finally breaking the searing gaze. She rose from the sofa to answer the door.

Elliot stretched his arms behind his head and sighed. _Disaster averted, _he thought to himself. He collected his thoughts, discovering that proverbial line had once again become clear.

**Lemme know what you think ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who has latched onto this story.....keep the reviews coming!**

**This chapter is short but it's leading to something good, I promise! :)**

"You've got to be kidding me," Olivia blared into the phone. She rubbed her forehead as she listened to her landlord on the other end.

_Renovations, blah, blah._

_Getting things up to code, blah, blah._

_Shouldn't take more than a week, blah, blah._

The bottom line--she would be removed from her apartment until the work was finished.

"Okay, thanks," she said, hanging up the phone.

_Fuck. _She cursed inwardly. "Fuck!" and outwardly as well. She hated the inconvenience, and of all times in her life to be uprooted from her home. _Guess I'll be crashing in the cribs for a few days. _The thought did nothing to improve her mood. The cribs were fine for a couple hours sleep, but she was less than excited about having to live out of them.

The work crew would be there tomorrow, so she started gathering her things together. Olivia was fairly low-maintenance, but by the time she finished packing up, she had three full suitcases. A garment bag and two duffels filled with her clothes and toiletries--just the essentials. She really wasn't sure how long she'd be misplaced, so she gathered enough to last her a week.

She was making her way to the door, all three bags hanging awkwardly from her frame. She heard her cell phone ringing from the other room. "Shit," she slung the luggage to the floor, going in search of the ringing.

"Hello?" she barked.

"Good morning to you, sunshine." No matter her state of aggravation, Elliot's teasing made her smile. She slumped down on the sofa with a huff.

"Sorry," she replied. "I just found out that my landlord's having my apartment complex renovated, so I'm going to be without a place to live for a few days. I'm just trying to get some things together."

Elliot was silent for a moment. "Where are you going?"

"To beg Cragen to let me crash in the cribs, I guess. It's not like I have a lot of options," she exhaled.

More silence.

"Hello, did you fall in a manhole?" she joked.

"I'm here," he said with a tinge of uncertainty. "And you're not staying in the filthy cribs. You're staying with me until your apartment's ready."

"I am, huh?" she quipped, trying to joke but choking on her heartbeat.

"Yeah," he said, smiling into the phone. "We spend enough time at that damn precinct. You won't get a moment's peace if you have to work there AND sleep there."

Olivia was afraid to respond, afraid he would sense the fear and enthusiasm building within her.

"Elliot, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Silence.

"Liv, don't be ridiculous. What're friends for, right?" _Friends._ She silently mocked the term.

"Okay," she finally complied. "if you insist."

"Well, I do, so it's settled," Elliot said. "I'll be around for a little bit if you want to bring your stuff over now."

"Sure, I was heading out the door when you called." She checked her watch. "I'll be over in a few."

* * *

The commute from her place to his only took about twenty minutes. She would have time to drop off her stuff before heading to work, which was a much better scenario than having to lug it to the station.

She arrived at his place in record time. He buzzed her up, and in minutes she was standing at his door. He answered her knock, and she was greeted by a shirtless Elliot, a towel draped over his shoulder. His skin gleamed with moisture, and for a few seconds Olivia couldn't move.

"You gonna stand there looking like a coat rack all day or what?" he jested to her, reaching to take her luggage. Olivia shook the stupidity off her features and followed him inside. _I wasn't expecting him to have his shirt off for crissakes, _she silently screamed.

Her eyes scanned his apartment, appreciating his sense of style. It was completely _Elliot--s_imply furnished, tastefully decorated, and impeccably neat.

"I have to say, Stabler, I'm pretty impressed with your place." She shook off the awkward staring contest she'd initiated a few seconds ago.

"Thanks, it's not much," she heard him say from the bathroom. "But it's something, I guess."

"It's great," Olivia replied. She sank down onto the sofa and closed her eyes. This arrangement had disaster written all over it, and she knew it. _Why the hell did I even agree to this? _She cursed herself for so impulsively accepting his invitation. But she did have to admit, this beats the cribs any day.

* * *

Elliot finished shaving, rinsing his face and toweling it dry. There was a newfound freshness to his features today, and he knew it had nothing to do with the new shaving cream he was using. Something inside him leapt when she agreed to stay here with him. He truly thought she would say no, but was so relieved to hear her say yes. True, it was only for a few days, but the air was laced with something like—possibility?

The past few months had been hell for them both, and they were on their way to finding their rhythm again. They had been through an emotional collapse, but light was beginning to filter through again. She still had walls when it came to some things, but in all the years they had been partners, he had never known her to be as open to him as she'd been lately.

They still had their banter, their teasing moments. But their interaction had become something much more intimate. Her torturous stint at Sealview had broken her, changed her. She still had not told him what she had went through, but he was greatly comforted by the fact that, in general, she seemed to turn to him now more than ever. Her moments of shutting him out with bottled up silence were becoming less and less often.

"You decent?" he heard her say from the hallway, tearing him back to reality.

"Yeah," he replied, throwing on a shirt.

"I'm going to head on in to work," she said, propping against the facing and looking at him with an unrecognizable emotion in her eyes. "It wouldn't do for us to show up at the same time."

He nodded, slowly fastening the buttons on his shirt.

"El, thanks for letting me stay," she said softly. She couldn't help but stare. _I've seen him a dozen times with his shirt off, what's the big deal now? _

But she knew the charted territory they had tarried in before was long gone.

Elliot nodded again. "I'll see you in a little while," he said, ducking his head and trying to meet her heated gaze.

She swallowed, dragging her eyes up to meet his. Her skin tingled with a bashful glow.

"Yeah, see ya." It was all she could manage.

She spun away quickly, hoping to regain some composure and maybe a shred of dignity. _Yes, this arrangement is not going to lead to anything good, _she told herself. Or could it?


	3. Chapter 3

**You guys are fantastic! Thanks for following this story, it really does make my day :)**

Olivia sat idly at her desk, fiddling with a strand of hair. These days, she was finding it harder to stay focused on her work. It wasn't any one thing in particular, just a combination of many factors. Since the undercover op had gone so terribly wrong, she found herself staring into space more often than actually typing up her case reports. The drive and focus on her work was fading away. And this scared her, because she had always prided herself in her ability to immerse herself in the job. She _was _the job. But lately, she knew that this wasn't true.

She had begun to question her effectiveness with Special Victims. This job required complete and absolute dedication, and she wasn't quite sure if this described her anymore. She couldn't help but wonder if there was another path, another purpose for her.

This unit saw the absolute worst that humans could do to each other--and ten years of it had drained her mentally, physically, and emotionally. There was very little space in her life for joy, love, or happiness. Moments of personal fulfillment were fleeting and very, very rare.

Up until lately, the job had been enough. She had pushed her desires and dreams down deep into her soul, because she really felt that SVU was where she was supposed to be. But even when they won a case, they never really won. These crimes left a trail of total disaster in their wake, and Olivia could do little, if anything, to help the ones broken by their ferocity.

"Liv," Elliot said, jolting her back to reality.

"Hmm?" she said, still toying with her hair.

"You've been zoned out all day, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.

She simply shook her head and sighed heavily. "Just been an off day, I guess," she said to him.

Elliot sat back in his chair, studying her, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "Okay," he resigned. He had learned not to press her too much, or she would completely shut down. And he did _not _want that, not today.

"Cragen's already gone, so I'm gonna cut out a little early," he said, leaning towards her desk. "I've got some stuff I need to do."

"Okay," looking up at him with weary eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said to her with a wink. They had not dared to tell anyone at the station about her temporary living arrangement. No need to fan the gossip flames.

She smiled weakly, trying to return her focus to her paperwork.

* * *

Elliot barged through his apartment door, arms full of bags and boxes. He was trying to hurry; he knew she'd be home before long. He had never really done anything like this for her, and he hoped she wouldn't think it was corny. He knew Olivia wasn't one for gestures of affection, or even romance. But tonight didn't really have anything to do with either of those things. He honestly just wanted to put a smile on her face.

* * *

Olivia trudged up the stairs to Elliot's apartment building. She had only been staying there for two days, but already there was something familiar and comfortable about being there.

She wrangled her keys out of her pocket, finding the one he had given her. She poised the key at the lock, but stopped and knocked on the door instead. Even though she was staying here, she still didn't want to be invasive.

She heard some scuttling coming from behind the closed door, and cocked her head to the side in curiosity. A few moments later he appeared.

"You have a key, right?" he asked mockingly.

"Yeah, but I…I didn't know if you were here, or decent, or…" she trailed off stupidly. _What is it about this man that makes me so incoherent?_

She let her eyes scan the room, a confused look taking over her stare. Her gaze was drawn to the dining room--primarily the table set with candles and a fresh vase of flowers. The atmosphere was soft and intimate, and it scared the hell out of her.

"What's going on, El?" she asked, trying to mask her nervousness.

He paused, looking at her with brows furrowed. "You didn't honestly think I'd forget your birthday, did you?"

A small wave of relief washed over her. _Of course. _She had been so enveloped in her own thought prison; her birthday had not even crossed her mind.

"You did all of this?" she asked walking toward the table, studying it. She laughed softly when she saw the two take-out containers.

His heart leapt at the sound. _Mission accomplished, _he thought when he saw her beaming expression.

"Well," he began, "I wanted to do something nice for you. But I'm not much of a cook, and I know you like Italian food, and there's this great little place a couple of blocks down….," his words trailed away.

She couldn't wipe the smile off her face. It had been so long since someone had done something nice for her like this. And she was truly touched to see the effort he had put into it. Candles and flowers…with take-out food. It was so Elliot--and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Elliot, this is great. It's perfect, actually." She let her eyes travel over him briefly, appreciating the view. He had recently showered and had changed into a pair of jeans and a plain white tee shirt. The shirt hugged his chest, and she tried to tear her eyes away.

"I just wanted to do something to make you smile for a change," he said, taking a small step toward her.

Her heart was doing funny things. She placed a hand on his arm, knowing that she needed to get away from him--and fast.

"If it's okay, I'm going to take a shower before we eat," she almost whispered.

"Okay," he said with a soft smile. "I figured you would want to."

She breezed past him, escaping to the bathroom. Closing the door, she braced her palms on the cool porcelain of the sink. She was deeply touched by Elliot's gestures. But she was frankly terrified by them at the same time. In all their years as partners, he had never gone to these lengths. But she knew that this just demonstrated even more the transformation taking place in their relationship.

It scared her, and she was tired of being scared. There was no use in denying her feelings—they had been there all along. But there was just so much to lose, so much at stake.

She showered quickly, and when she was finished, tousled her damp hair, and went in search of her clothes. Since he was casually dressed, she would match him. She pulled on her dark denim and a black short sleeved top.

She checked her reflection in the mirror. No make-up, but she didn't really need it with Elliot. She inhaled a sharp breath. She didn't know what was going to happen tonight, but she _did_ know that she had to keep it under control. Regardless of her feelings for Elliot, he was her partner, and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

* * *

The night passed in companionable style. They enjoyed the food and the wine, but mostly the conversation. It was so nice to talk to him about things that _didn't _involve violence or rape kits or DNA.

He told some funny stories about the kids and their teenage antics, and Olivia found herself laughing more than she had in a long, long time.

It was late when they finished their meal, and the workday combined with the wine was getting to both of them. Olivia felt an extraordinary sense of peaceful lethargy. She moved to the sofa, taking her half full glass with her.

Elliot disappeared for a minute, then returned to join her on the couch. He had a funny smirk curving his mouth, and she looked at him questioningly.

Before she could speak, he produced a small thin box. Her eyes widened as she dragged them up to meet his.

"Elliot," she said softly with a small smile of her own. Her eyes were still searching his, trying to figure him out.

She opened the slender box, and let out a little gasp when she saw the delicate item lying against the light blue velvet. A necklace, adorned with a diamond pendant. Curved over the top of the diamond was a tiny, silver dolphin.

"El, it's beautiful." And it was.

He lifted the necklace off of its velvet bed. "Turn around," he told her.

She complied, and perceivably shivered when she felt his fingers graze the nape of her neck. She turned back to him, looking down to admire her gift. And then she looked at him. There was an emotion in his eyes, but she couldn't read it.

"Elliot, thank you so much for everything," she said, leaning slightly toward him. "You've really outdone yourself this time."

He chuckled and ducked his head. "Like I said, I just wanted to do something nice for you. Considering the past few months, I figured we could both use some cheering up."

She tried not to read anything into his statement, but failed miserably. She moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He gathered her close, and her chin rested easily on his shoulder.

"Thank you," was all she said. She was drowning in the scent of him, and the feeling of being this close to him. They had shared hugs before, but this was remarkably different. She sighed when she felt his fingers combing through her still damp her.

She wanted to stay here forever. She was surrounded by so many things—safety, warmth, and a stirring somewhere down deep inside her. She pulled back to look at him again, and his hand came up to her face, caressing her cheek. His thumb traced a line across her jaw line, and then brushed across her lips. Something grabbed and twisted inside her as she saw his face moving closer to hers. She wanted him to kiss her so damn badly, but something was still wrestling her back.

Their lips were mere centimeters apart, and she could feel his breath hot on her skin. It was such a delicious sensation. But there was that voice again, the voice of reason she was trying so desperately to stifle.

She swallowed hard, and placed her palm against his chest. She felt how hard his heart was beating and knew that he was fighting the same battle as she was.

She moved backward, putting much needed space between them.

"El," she said softly, her eyes pleading.

Nothing more needed to be said; he understood completely. And although he was disappointed, he wasn't upset. He knew all too well the consequences of their actions.

She rose from the sofa, stopping in front of him. "I think I should go to bed now," her soft words floated above him.

Elliot simply nodded, meeting her eyes with a smoldering gaze. He wanted nothing more than to follow her to that bed, to feel every inch of her against him.

He swallowed hard, smiled, and said, "Good night."

He watched as she walked past, out of sight into his bedroom. He'd insisted that she take the bed while she was there. He rose, walking to the dining room where he blew out the candles that were still burning. He retrieved a pair of sleep pants from the laundry, changed, and took his place on the sofa.

He folded his arms behind his head, knowing that sleep would not soon find him. Not as long as he could still feel her against him. Not as long as he could still smell the scent of her hair. Not until the ache within him had gone away.

**Tee hee....sorry to lead you guys on....but it's kinda fun *snick*...Please R&R**


	4. Chapter 4

So, here's the next installment. It's a short chapter, but needed to set the stage for things to come. Thanks again guys for sticking with this story...there's a lot more drama in the works...but maybe this chapter will satisfy any smut cravings.....;)

_Elliot knocked softly, and listened for her footsteps. He heard the deadbolts being undone, and soon was face to face with her. He was soaked with rain, his breath heavy. _

_She simply stood aside, letting him enter. She was still angry with him, but watching the beads of moisture dripping down his face and neck was doing something to quell that anger._

_They stood still, simply staring. Olivia folded her arms across her chest, leaning back against the wall. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw him move closer to her._

"_Liv," he breathed. "Please forgive me."_

_She refused to meet his gaze, and he took a few more steps to close the gap between them._

_He was so close, yet still so far away. _

"_I didn't mean to hurt you," she heard him say._

_And his hold on her became too much. "I know," she whispered._

_He placed his hands on her shoulders, and felt her tense and then relax beneath his grasp. His hands ran down the length of her arms, and he laced his fingers with hers. He took one final step to fuse their bodies._

_She felt the cold dampness of his clothes seeping through her silk robe, and felt a shiver take over. He tipped her chin so that her eyes looked right into his own—dark pools of raw desire._

_He kissed her, soft and sensuous, and felt a jolt through his system. Her tongue slid against his own, and she softly moaned into his mouth. He tangled one hand into her hair, and pressed against her even more. Her body was hot, and he felt her hands moving up his chest. She beckoned his attention down to her neck, where he claimed the soft skin just beneath her ear lobe. He laved her neck with kisses, feeling her pulse point throbbing beneath his lips. _

_He loosened the sash on her robe, letting it fall slowly open. He ran his hands around her bare waist and down the sides of her hips, as she cried out quietly. He was still clothed, but she could feel his hardness pressed against her belly. _

_She grabbed at the hem of his soaking tee shirt, peeling it off of him and tossing it to the floor. He kissed her mouth hard, threatening to devour her. She pulled away, taking him by the hand, leading him to her bed. _

_He was around her once again, and she felt the mattress behind her legs. He slid her robe off of her shoulders, and the silken garment fell to the floor. She stood before him, completely naked and vulnerable. _

_She impatiently toyed with the zipper of his pants, and he assisted her in removing all that remained between them. She whimpered softly as he lifted her up and lay her down on the bed. He was over her, nibbling lightly on her neck and collarbone. _

_She reached down between them and grasped his erection, eliciting a groan from him that lit her on fire. He moved his mouth to nibble at her breasts, and she writhed in pleasure beneath him._

_She pushed him back and sat up suddenly, putting pressure against him and forcing him to the bed. He looked up at her in surprise as she straddled him, an infectious smile painting her features._

_He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs and over her hips. She leant down and kissed his mouth briefly, before grasping his hardness once again. She guided him to the spot where she needed him the most. _

_They sighed in unison at the contact. She sheathed him completely, and tossed back her head, reveling in the sensation. He grasped her hips, increasing the tempo. Her actions mirrored his, her movements hard, purposeful, and desperate._

_Sweat covered them both as they became closer and closer to oblivion. Her moans mixed with his heavy breath, and with the final thrusts, they both were encased in bliss. Her cries became raspy, his teeth clenched. Eventually, their spent bodies relaxed, and she fell in a heap on top of him, her hair splayed across his pillow._

Elliot awoke with a start, his body reeling. He wasn't sure what had awoken him so suddenly, but while lying there, his body reminded him of his very vivid dream.

And then there was the noise again.

He sat up sharply, listening through the silence and darkness.

Sobbing.

He practically leapt from the sofa to get to her. He reached the bedside, and could see her face, bathed in moonlight and twisted with emotion. She was mumbling something so softly; he could not make it out. He gently took her by the shoulders, trying to nudge her from her nightmare.

"Liv," he whispered.

Upon hearing his voice, she awoke to Harris' face leering over her. His hands were on her again, and she cried out in terror once more.

She stared into his face, pleading with him and begging him not to hurt her. She put her hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

"Liv!" Elliot said loudly.

This broke her trance, and she became aware that it was not Harris. It was Elliot.

He gathered her up, holding her close against him as she continued to cry. Her hair was soft against his bare chest. His heart was breaking for her. To see this woman, the one who had always been so strong, so uncontrollably lost in emotion—it was almost more than he could bear.

He didn't speak, he just existed for her. After a few long moments, her sobs receded and she was calm. He reached to the night stand for a Kleenex and offered it to her.

She dabbed at her eyes. "Elliot, I'm so sorry," she sniffled.

"Ssh," he soothed. "It's over now."

"No, no it's not," she cried. "It starts all over again every time I close my eyes."

He knew what she meant without even having to ask.

"Liv, he can't hurt you anymore. He can never hurt you again."

She backed away from him, adjusting the covers over her legs. "I've never been so scared in all of my life," she said softly.

"You don't have to say anything—," Elliot said, but her words cut into his thoughts.

"Yes I do, El," she said. "I want you to know what happened."

She drew a shaky breath, trying to clear her head. She fidgeted with her hands, unable to look him in the eyes.

"It didn't take long for me to know that Harris was behind those attacks at Sealview. After the lockdown, we were all confused and wanted to know what the hell was going on. I smarted off to Harris, and he grabbed me and said he was taking me to the Hall." She paused, breathing deep, before continuing.

"But I soon figured out he had other plans for me. He took me to the basement, and he beat me up pretty good."

She felt sick to her stomach, reliving the terror all over again. She covered her face with her hands.

"I….I tried to fight him off….but I knew it wasn't going to do any good. No one knew where we were; he had total control. He….he…forced me to the floor and….," her words were thick with swallowed sobs. "He handcuffed me….and he was standing over me…..I knew what he was going to do. He….he unzipped his pants and….tried to force me to….to…." Her tears were streaming anew, but she continued.

"I couldn't do anything—I couldn't move, couldn't scream. If Fin hadn't found me when he did, I knew Harris would….would…"

Elliot couldn't stand another minute. He scooped her up, practically placing her in his lap. He held her face close to his chest as she cried again.

"In all the years I've been working for SVU, I've never really known exactly what was going through the victims' minds when they were being attacked. But I do now," her voice was strangled with tears.

"I've faced off with the worst perps, and _none_ of them have ever made me feel afraid. Not until Harris. He's taken something from me that I don't know if I'll ever get back."

Elliot cradled her, not speaking, just being. He tried to calm her shaking.

And even through her tears, Olivia could feel something lift off of her soul. A wave of relief washed over her, thankful to be free of the burden. In all the therapy sessions with Huang, she had staunchly refused to discuss the details of her attack. She had been holding it inside all this time, and the weight had threatened to crush her.

Composure began to return to her, and she pulled back from Elliot's embrace, still perched almost completely in his lap.

"I've, um….I haven't talked about this to anyone. You're the only one I would trust to know. And I…I wanted to tell you before, but I felt so ashamed and weak."

He reached his hand up to her face, wiping away a stray tear. His heart was bursting with the knowledge that she trusted him above anyone else—enough to share something so personally painful.

"I'm glad it was me that you told," he replied, drawing her close once again. And he was.

She nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder, entranced by the sense of peace that simply opening up had brought her.

He cradled her with one hand, and stroked her hair with the other. She became silent and still, and after a while he realized that she had fallen asleep. He still remained with her, not wanting to break the contact. But he knew that he had to. He knew he could not stay.

He slid her from his lap back to the bed, trying not to wake her. He fixed the covers around her, and fought back an imminent need to be next to her. He sat beside her sleeping form, illuminated from the night glow filtering in from the bedroom window.

He stayed with her for over an hour, before deciding to return to the couch. He lay awake, vaguely recalling the dream he had had earlier in the night. But his desire for her, no matter how strong, had been replaced with the need to protect her, to save her. He only hoped he wouldn't lose everything else in the process.


	5. Chapter 5

**For all my loyal followers, here ya go! This chapter is long and very detailed--I've never included case work in my stories, so I apologize if it doesn't flow well. I tried to focus more on Elliot and Olivia's emotions and reactions, instead of bogging you down with word-for-word case work. I think it works for this story--things are taking a very dramatic turn.....**

The next day, Olivia sat at her desk, typing up some reports from the cases they had closed out that day. The precinct was oddly quiet, but Cragen's voice pierced through the lull.

"We've picked up another case. Homicide's turned it over to us. Two prostitutes have been murdered in the last two weeks, and they think the crimes are related. We think that whoever's doing this has a close connection with these women," he said.

"Like the pimp?" Elliot asked, bidding his full attention.

"That's the angle we're going to work it from," Cragen responded. "But I want to get someone on the inside. We have a better chance of getting the info we need in a timely manner. Olivia, I'm putting you undercover in the vicinity of the crimes. Talk up the girls as much as you can, see what you can gauge from them. Fin, I want you to shadow Olivia. Keep track of her movements, and stay close in case anything goes down."

Elliot glanced over at Olivia and then back to Cragen.

"Captain, I'm not sure this is such a good idea." Elliot's words rushed out.

Cragen glared at Elliot for a few long moments, and said, "Well detective, unless you've got a better plan, this is how it's going to go down."

Elliot immediately regretted his words. And he could handle the Captain's admonishment any day. But when he looked in Olivia's direction again, the glare of fire she was throwing could not be missed, by him or anyone else.

"Sure thing Captain," Olivia said, never taking her eyes off of Elliot. "I'll start preparing; just tell me when and where."

Elliot let his gaze fall to the floor as he listened to the slam of her desk drawer. She stormed out of the bull pen without saying a word to him.

He waited until everyone had busied themselves before taking off after her. He caught her just before she stepped onto the elevator.

"Wait," he panted. "I'm sorry for what I said back there."

She fixed her eyes on him again. "You damn well should be," she seethed. "Don't _ever_ second-guess me in front of the Captain. You know, just because we had a heart to heart last night doesn't give you the right to make me look incompetent." She tried to control the tone of her voice, not wanting to cause a scene.

"Liv, I wasn't trying to make you look incompetent," Elliot said, stepping closer to her. "I'm just worried about you going undercover again so soon after…"

"You know what, El, why don't you just spare me, okay? I am perfectly capable of doing my job. Besides, it's not your call."

She spun away from him, punching the elevator button again. "You're my partner for God's sake--you're supposed to back my play!"

The hurt and anger in her voice was obvious.

He knew he had fucked up.

"And by the way," she continued with a harsh voice. "My landlord called. My apartment's ready, so I'll be out of your way now."

She stepped onto the elevator, and as the doors closed, he was pretty sure he saw her wipe a tear away.

He didn't try to follow her. If he had learned anything about Olivia, it was the fact that she needed space when she was angry. And right now, he was the _last_ person she wanted to talk to.

He returned to his desk and struggled through his remaining case work. All he could think about was how badly he'd screwed up. He was just trying to look out for her, but he had crossed the line.

He cursed himself for being so stupid. He rubbed his face, shuffled some papers around, and decided to call it a day. He grabbed his coat, and headed home.

* * *

Elliot shoved his apartment door open, discarding his belongings on the table. It was eerily quiet. And he was hit with another pang of realization.

He went to the bedroom and turned on the light. Just as he thought. He checked the bathroom, and felt the heaviness in his chest. She had already gone.

There was no sign that she had ever been there in the first place. Sure, he knew that she was only staying for a few days, but after what had taken place earlier, it hurt to know that all of the progress they had made no longer mattered. Things were back to normal.

Disgusted, he walked to the fridge and retrieved a beer. He uncapped it and took a hearty swig, walking back to the bedroom door. He had gotten so used to her being there; it just felt natural. He missed her clothes lying around. He missed the smell of her shampoo. He missed the stolen moments when he had stood in this doorway, watching her sleep.

But most of all, he missed the closeness they had shared. He could always find comfort in her company, but now it was back to the way it used to be, when they were avoiding each other and struggling for words.

He wanted to call her, to ask her why she took off in such a hurry. But he already knew why. He had hurt her terribly with his outburst today, when all he was trying to do was protect her. Instead, he had come off as a complete jackass. And he knew that right now, nothing he could say would make it better.

_

* * *

Why the hell are you crying, _Olivia asked herself. She was sitting on her couch, glass of wine in hand. She toyed with the pendant that still hung around her neck, and absently wiped at a tear as it traveled down her cheek.

She was so damn angry at him. Angry and hurt. She felt that they had made so much progress in repairing their relationship, and now this.

Lately, she had seen many sides to Elliot's personality. Sometimes sensitive and warm—but today, he had shown his true colors. _This _was the asshole that she knew him to be. Protective, overbearing Elliot.

_How dare he question my abilities? What gives him the right?_

His words had been very hurtful. But she had a job to do, and that had to come first. She wiped her face again, gulped down the last of her wine, and started to unpack her things.

Part of her was very grateful to be back in her apartment. But the other part, the larger part, longed to be at Elliot's. It was very hard to explain, but she had felt so comfortable there, so settled. There was something about being among his things that made her feel content.

They had shared many intimate moments, some a little too intimate to forget. For just a little while, he had made her forget how unhappy she was. His company was a source of comfort for her, and now, here in her own place again, the familiar feeling of loneliness gripped her.

_Goddammit Stabler, why'd you have to say that?_

* * *

The undercover case had broken in two days. Olivia had made the right connections, and discovered that the man they suspected was indeed responsible for the murders. The investigation and arrest had gone down smoothly, and she was grateful for that.

She hadn't spoken to Elliot since that day at the precinct, except what was required from their jobs. She was cold, and he was unapologetic.

She finished up her reports, and was on her way to hand them in when Cragen burst in, an unknown female officer accompanying him.

"Olivia, Lake," he barked.

"Yeah, Cap," Olivia replied.

Elliot turned his attention to the conversation.

"Central Park patrol has received information on two bodies dumped," Cragen began. "The two were discovered this morning. There's evidence of torture and sexual trauma on the female. Patrol was alerted to the location after they received an email about a 'dead dog' in that area. CSU is still working the scene, and we're still trying to piece everything together."

Olivia's attention turned to the female standing beside him.

"Liv, I'm putting you with Lake on this one. And this is Special Agent Lauren Cooper with the FBI. She's working with us because these murders have similarities that she has matched up with several open cases of hers."

Olivia glanced quickly at Elliot.

Her confused stare prompted Cragen to continue, "Elliot, you're due in Montreal to wrap up the trial prep for the rape/murder extradition case you've been working. I've already made the arrangements. They'll be expecting you tomorrow morning."

Elliot frowned but nodded.

Cragen finished up the briefing, giving Olivia and Lake some direction on how to approach the case.

Elliot didn't say a word, but met her eyes briefly. His gaze was soft but piercing, like there were unspoken words trying to find an outlet. But instead, he gathered his things together and walked out of the precinct quietly.

Olivia felt as if there were rocks in her stomach. She wanted to follow him, to at least say something before he left. But she had a job to do, and the assignment could not wait. She would have to deal with Elliot later.

* * *

Olivia immersed herself in the case, trying to take her mind off of Elliot. She and Agent Cooper worked side by side, running down leads and questioning persons of interest.

Olivia had learned that Lauren's connection to the case stemmed from work she had performed with a professor of hers. He had been following the cases for many years, and had been unsuccessful in solving them.

"It completely consumed him, and eventually led to his suicide. He just couldn't let it go," Lauren told Olivia while they were tossing an apartment for clues. "I vowed to do whatever I could to keep these cases priority."

Lauren was a good cop, but was not very comfortable around live victims. Her work mainly focused on the dead; moonlighting with Special Victims was giving her a whole new insight into the crimes.

In fact, Lauren reminded Olivia very much of herself when she was first on the force. It had taken several years to harden and condition herself to the inhumane state in which most victims were found. Still, some cases haunted her for days.

In the course of their investigation, forensics had revealed that the male victim in the park was in fact the Woodsman, the serial killer they had been searching for all along. Larry Moore had used his patrol uniform to lure the victims with a false sense of security. They now had to figure out who had killed the killer.

Part of Moore's MO was snatching another victim before he killed the first, and they knew that their time was running out.

Their inquiries ultimately led them to the dockside warehouse that Moore had used to torture and kill his victims. Olivia was still haunted by what she had seen there. They recovered the latest victim hidden away in that cold, dark place. She was covered in burns, cuts, and bruises, and was barely hanging on to her life.

Olivia and Lauren stayed with the victim at the hospital. Her name was Amy, and the doctors did not seem optimistic about her chance for survival.

"She's suffering from severe shock and dehydration," the attending doctor told them. "What the hell happened to her?"

"Everything," Lauren responded in a defeated tone.

They documented Amy's condition, photographed her, and fingerprinted her.

"We need to do this in case she doesn't make it," Olivia said, gently inking and printing Amy's pitiful fingertips. "Her family will want to know."

Olivia looked up to see Lauren's eyes welled with unshed tears.

"You okay?" Olivia asked her.

"No," Lauren said shakily. "No, I'm…not used to working with live victims. No, I'm not okay."

Lauren stormed from the room, leaving Olivia to finish the process by herself.

* * *

Olivia returned to the precinct. She followed up on some emails, and tried to shake the gruesome images she had just witnessed out of her head. She was startled by Cragen's voice.

"Olivia," he beckoned her.

She entered his office.

"Close the door," Cragen told her.

"What's up, Captain?" she asked, unsure of the atmosphere.

"Where's Agent Cooper?"

"She's….running the victim's prints, trying to make an ID….why?" Olivia responded.

"Lake made a discovery. His analysis of the surveillance from the internet café gave us a solid lead." He paused. "The email that was sent to Park Patrol was sent by Agent Cooper."

Olivia's eyes widened. "There must be some explanation for that."

Cragen replied, "I think the image speaks for itself." He slid the photo across his desk as Olivia stared in disbelief.

* * *

Olivia didn't want to believe that Lauren could be behind any of this. She wanted to continue believing that Lauren was nothing more than a passionate cop, trying her best to solve this case.

But after her interrogation of Lauren, Olivia's worst fears materialized. Lauren was responsible for the death of Larry Moore. Olivia deduced this, not from Lauren's admission, but from her lack of cooperation.

"Lauren, I'm trying to help you," Olivia told her. "What happens next is up to you."

"Spare me, Olivia," Lauren said flatly. "You're executing a search warrant on my apartment as we speak."

Moments later, Lake met Olivia at the interrogation room door holding an evidence bag. Inside was a single shell casing.

The shell casing definitively tied Lauren to the crime, and she was arrested. But through all of the chaos, and because of the fact Cooper was an FBI agent, the brass came down hard. They felt they were blindsided by SVU's failure to communicate the situation to them. In the end, Lauren was released on her own recognizance.

Olivia and Lake discovered that the weapon Lauren used to kill Moore actually belonged to Dr. Tillman, her professor. On Cragen's orders, they questioned Tillman's widow as to the whereabouts of the gun. Ms. Tillman revealed that she had given the gun to Cooper, but she was being otherwise uncooperative.

"I know what you're trying to do," Ms. Tillman said to Olivia and Lake. "But I won't help you put her away."

Olivia stormed out of the Tillman residence, Lake following close behind.

"We've got to hurry," Olivia said. "Ms. Tillman is calling Lauren as we speak."

She knew that Lauren would more than likely run, but Olivia wanted to confront her and hear Lauren's explanation for herself.

They reached Lauren's apartment, and Olivia knocked heavily.

Nothing.

"Maybe she's already split," Lake said.

"No," said Olivia. "She's here."

They discovered the door was open, and entered cautiously. They were greeted by the view of Lauren, sitting at a table, her FBI-issued gun and badge lying in front of her.

Olivia tried to mask her uncertainty—she was sure that if Lauren was capable of murdering Moore, she was capable of anything. Lauren had a far-away look in her eyes, like she was totally disjointed from reality.

"Where's Dr. Tillman's gun, Lauren," she asked.

"You don't need it," Lauren answered cryptically. "Guess I'm going to jail. You proud?" Olivia quickly retrieved Lauren's glock from the table, handing it off to Lake.

"I would have been proud to help you bring down the bastard that killed 20 women," Olivia said, glaring at Lauren.

"That wasn't enough for me," Lauren leered. "How many times have you ever wanted to put your gun to a perp's head and pull the trigger?"

"That's what makes you different from me," Olivia said, her voice becoming louder. "You did, and I never would. I have too much to lose."

Lauren smiled strangely. "I don't," she said.

Lauren began to shake, began to lose her grip on control. Olivia continued.

"What about Amy?" Olivia shouted. "Did you ever think about her before you killed Moore? You played out this little charade and we all just fell in step behind you. You knew he had another victim, and you stood by and did nothing!"

There was no time to react when Lauren reached behind her. The movement and the noise all blended into one, as Lauren fired. Lake instinctively pulled and fired on Lauren, stilling her with one shot. Lauren slumped lifelessly in her chair.

Lake then glanced to his left where Olivia was. She was no longer standing, but crumpled on the floor.

Lake swallowed hard, and radioed for help. He stooped by Olivia's side and saw that the floor beneath her head was pooled with blood.

"Olivia, Olivia," he said as placed his hand over her head. _Oh God, there's so much blood._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi to all, and I apologize for the making you wait so long for this update. The inspiration just hasn't been flowing I guess, but here it is! How will Elliot deal with this tragedy, and what will it mean for their future? Read and find out..... :)**

Cragen jumped out of the squad car when they reached Cooper's residence, and was horrified even more by what he saw.

The first gurney carried Cooper's body, already bagged and tagged. Lake was standing against the stair railing, his hands covered in blood.

They both watched in surreal shock as the second gurney came into view. The mask on her face and the swarm of paramedics obscured their view of her. But it was Olivia.

"How is she?" Cragen breathlessly asked a paramedic.

"Not good. Let's go!" he shouted to the driver.

Cragen and Lake stood helplessly by as the ambulance doors closed.

"Come on," Cragen said to Lake.

They piled into the squad car, lights on, sirens blaring. Cragen's heart was pumping, and he knew there was one phone call he needed to make on the way.

* * *

Elliot paced through the terminal, glad to be back in the city. He had finished up the trial prep, and he knew that this little trip had put him way behind on about half a dozen other cases that needed closing up.

He was tired from the flight, but tried to fight the fatigue as he walked outside to hail a cab. He was distracted momentarily by his ringing phone.

"Stabler."

"Elliot, where are you?" Cragen's voice carried above the siren.

"Just got back, what's up Cap?"

_Thank God._

"Get the quickest cab to Mercy. There's been an accident."

Elliot froze.

"Captain," Elliot almost shouted. "What happened?"

"It's Olivia. She's been shot."

Elliot felt the strength leave his legs. His vision blurred, and his mouth went dry.

"Get there as fast as you can, Elliot. We'll meet you there."

Elliot hung up the phone without another word. He frantically hailed a cab. "Mercy! As fast as you can get there!"

* * *

He was dizzy, disoriented from the thoughts rushing through his brain.

_Who shot her?_

_I should've been there._

_I should've called her._

_Please don't let her die._

It seemed an eternity before the cab screeched to the ER entrance. Elliot had enough clarity to toss some money to the cabbie before storming off into the ER.

He made his way past rooms and down corridors until he reached the trauma room. He burst through the doors, without even hearing Cragen calling his name.

The sight was more than he could bear. A conundrum of nurses, equipment, tubes, shouting, medical lingo, the pinging of monitors. Elliot's eyes searched frantically through the chaos, trying to get a glimpse of her.

The nurses moved just enough for him to finally see her face. Her eyes were closed, her face bloody, an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. Her hair was matted with blood and was sticking to the side of her face. He scrubbed down his mouth and chin with his hand. He balled his fists, fighting back the numbing fear that was paralyzing him.

Suddenly, the shouting in the trauma room became more frantic. The monitors were making different sounds. He knew what was happening, but he wouldn't allow himself to believe it.

"Are you family?" a nurse asked him, as more nurses pushed past them.

"Yeah," Elliot replied. And he was.

"You're gonna have to wait outside," the nurse said, urging him back out of the swinging doors.

"She's crashing, come on people," the attending shouted.

Elliot was choking on the fear. He watched from the window as they tried so hard to save her. The strength was leaving his body. He had to do something.

He closed his eyes and felt his body go limp, sliding down the wall. On his knees, with his forehead braced against the cool plaster, cradling his head in his hands--he did the only thing he knew to do.

_Please, God, don't let her die._

_Don't take her from me._

_I need more time._

Cragen watched as his detective was losing composure, but he dared not approach Elliot in this state.

The tears stung Elliot's eyes, but he willed himself not to lose it. At least not yet.

_I should have called her._

_It can't end like this._

The commotion in the trauma room had lulled, and Elliot was brought back to reality by the attending's voice.

"Sir?"

Elliot stood up, completely drained of color.

"Detective Stabler," Elliot replied, his eyes wide with fear. "Is she…?"

"We've stabilized her, but she's going to need surgery to repair the damage. We're going to wait until her vitals have improved. She'll be moved to ICU until then."

He was sure that his legs would fail him.

"Can…can I see her before you take her?" Elliot pled.

"Sure, she's still out, but…," the attending said before Elliot disappeared through the doors.

He walked slowly into the room, still strangled by fear. She was tubed and draped and masked. He stood there, just staring at her.

"Liv, you can't leave me," he whispered. He reached out his hand to smooth her matted, blood-soaked hair out of her face. "You have to make it, okay?"

The nurses shortly came back in and surrounded him. He moved out of their way, as they wheeled her out and off to the ICU.

He was aware of the numbness and almost out-of-body feeling that had taken him over. He looked down to his hand, which was stained with blood. Her blood.

He walked stiffly out of the trauma room to find Cragen and Lake still there.

Cragen placed a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Come on, it'll be awhile before she wakes up."

"No, I'm…I'm gonna stay here, Cap," Elliot replied. "I need to."

Cragen looked at Elliot with a sincere gaze and simply nodded. He knew that there was depth to Elliot and Olivia's relationship—that had been obvious for years. But it was becoming more and more evident that it wasn't just 'partnership' that had made Elliot want to stay by her side.

* * *

Elliot sat for what seemed like infinity in the cramped waiting room, his head down, hands clasped. The seconds ticked by monotonously.

_She has to be okay._

_I need another chance._

Elliot physically jumped when the doctor entered.

"Detective, Ms. Benson came through surgery just fine," he said.

Elliot was able to breathe, if only just a little.

"We repaired the damage from the gunshot, but now we're a little concerned about the swelling. Her vitals are much better now, but she's still not out of the woods. We're going to keep her in ICU until the swelling subsides."

"Can I see her?" Elliot asked.

"She's just out of recovery, and she's still unconscious. A few minutes will be fine, but she needs her rest."

Elliot followed the doctor to the ICU, and he made his way to Olivia's bedside.

"Is she in any pain?" Elliot asked, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

"We don't believe so," the doctor replied. "We're keeping her very well medicated. Rest is the best thing for her condition right now, so it may take a few days for her to regain consciousness."

The doctor walked past Elliot, on to his next patient. Elliot moved closer to her, somewhat relieved but still so scared.

The blood was gone, and the mask had been replaced by a little tube underneath her nose. He had seen people in the hospital a million times, but this time it was different. It wasn't just anyone, it was _Olivia_.

He reached out a hand to touch her face, a soft brush across her cheek. He ran his fingertips down the inside of her arm. He placed his hand over hers and gathered it into his grasp. Her skin was very pale and dry.

He brushed his thumb across her knuckles as he spoke. "Liv….I need you to get better, okay?" The tears stung his eyes once again.

"I've lost a lot of people lately, and….I don't want to lose you too. I can't lose you."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her hand, and then turned to leave. A few minutes, the doctor had said.

* * *

The next day, Olivia's condition had changed very little. Elliot stayed at the hospital all night, going in to visit her whenever the doctors allowed it.

He was sitting in the waiting room once again when he saw Cragen come into view. The Captain took the seat next to Elliot, pausing before speaking.

"Elliot, she's in intensive care and probably won't wake up for a day or two. You need to get some rest."

Elliot drew a weary breath, knowing he was right. Elliot couldn't even remember the last time he slept.

"Captain, what happened?" And Cragen realized that he hadn't even told Elliot how Olivia had ended up here.

Cragen briefly filled him in on the background of the case.

"Olivia and Lake had gone to confront Agent Cooper about her involvement in the murder. Cooper had a weapon concealed, and when Olivia pushed her too far, Lauren just snapped and shot her."

Elliot stared forward in disbelief. He was upset that he hadn't been there to protect her.

Cragen somehow sensed Elliot's thoughts, and added, "There's nothing that could have been done to prevent this from happening. No one thought that Cooper was that unstable."

Elliot simply nodded, his posture slumped, his hands clenched in front of his face.

"Take some time off, Elliot, but go home and rest. That's a direct order," Cragen said, patting him on the shoulder. And with that he walked away.

* * *

It had only been two days, but it seemed like years since he'd gotten that phone call. Olivia had been moved to a private room; her condition was improving by the hour.

Elliot had to admit that catching a few hours of sleep had been a good idea. Back at the hospital, he took the elevator and wound through the corridors until he found her room.

He tiptoed in, scanning the room. Someone had sent flowers. He checked the card—they were from Alex. He smiled at the gesture, glad that Alex and Olivia had managed to stay close.

His eyes turned to Olivia's sleeping form. She looked so fragile. But the color had returned to her, and the doctors seemed optimistic for her full recovery.

She'd been lucky, they had told him. It wasn't many times they saw an injury like that result in anything good. But Olivia was a fighter.

He knew.

Elliot pulled a chair close to her bedside. He wondered if she was aware of what was going on, if she could sense that he was there. He took her hand in his, careful not to disturb the tubes that snaked up her arm.

He had been with her almost every minute since it happened. And he knew that he needed to return to work. He had a job to do, but right now his job was to make sure that Olivia was okay.

The realizations started sinking in. The fact that she was his friend wasn't keeping him here. The fact that she was his partner wasn't keeping him here. It was the fact that he _loved _her.

He had known it for years. He had wanted to tell her, but there were too many other things that kept getting in the way. His marriage, their jobs, and his fear of losing what they already had.

But he was tired of being scared. He was tired of being forced to deny the one true thing that he had left.

Sure, his job was important. But if it meant having to give up all that was real to him, was it worth it? He didn't know. But he _did_ know that he'd come way too damn close to losing her, and he wasn't going to let her slip away this time. Not again.

**Please let me know what you think so far.....**


	7. Chapter 7

**Only two more chapters to go, people! This one's rather short, but important. And leading up to something great.....give me your feedback. It's ever-so appreciated!! :D**

The sounds were melting together. Colors swirled behind her eyelids. She tried to move, but it felt like her entire body was covered in a thick blanket of wet sand.

She knew she wasn't dead, but where was she?

It was so quiet, so still. Her throat was dry. Her head ached unbelievably.

She tried again to move her hands, her feet. It was as if she was a prisoner in her own body. She attempted to speak, but no sound came out.

She was scared.

She could hear conversation. It was all garbled in her head; she couldn't make out the words. She wanted to open her eyes, but they were uncooperative.

Two voices.

Then only one voice.

She put all of her focus into controlling her body. She willed herself to move, to speak.

"Liv, please wake up."

That voice. Somewhere in the deepest part of her, she knew that voice.

_Please, God, help me move._

Olivia concentrated all her energy to her hands.

_Someone's there and I want them to know I can hear…._

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," the voice said.

Sensations and memories started pouring into her.

Her hands. One was cold, but the other felt warm. The warm one felt heavier than the other; something was weighing it down.

Elliot squeezed her hand, and traced his fingertips over the top of her hand from wrist to tip.

"Please come back," he whispered. "Come back to me."

And then she knew.

Her neurons stormed, her heart beat faster.

_Elliot._

Elliot was here with her.

She focused on his name, trying to say it.

Finally, mercifully, her fingers twitched beneath his hand.

Elliot felt a jolt of awareness traverse him.

"Liv," he said, standing up to touch her face. "Liv, I'm here."

Slowly, painfully, her eyes fluttered open. It took several seconds for them to adjust to her surroundings.

Elliot was standing over her, touching her. She realized where she was, but could not remember how she got there.

"Elliot," she croaked, her throat sore and parched.

Nothing could describe the complete catharsis that owned him at that moment. She was awake. And she was okay.

"I'm right here," he assured her, swallowing hard.

"What…what happened to me?"

He sat back down in the chair beside her bed, still clasping her hand, and explained the entire ordeal.

"When?"

"Three days ago," Elliot replied.

Little by little, the events started coming back to her.

"The last thing I remember was standing outside her door with Lake," Olivia told him.

They were silent, sinking it all in.

"Have you been here for three days?" Olivia asked him.

"Well…almost," he said with a smile. "I did catch some sleep when you were in ICU."

Olivia was touched beyond words. He had stayed with her for three days.

He knew that she didn't have anyone else.

And in fact, there wasn't anyone else in existence she would rather have here with her right now.

Olivia winced, a pain shooting through her temple.

"You need something? Need me to get the nurse?" Elliot said frantically.

Olivia rubbed the side of her face and smiled, "No, El, I'm fine. Just a little sore all over from being in this bed so long."

'I'm…I'm gonna call the Captain and let him know you're awake," Elliot said, fishing for his phone.

Olivia nodded and watched him walk out into the hallway. She was so tired but so energized.

Elliot had stayed by her side, and she knew that it didn't have anything to do with friendship, or partnership even. And it filled her with anticipation to know what had made him stay.

* * *

Four days later, Olivia was back in her apartment. Cragen had told her to take as much time as she needed to get better. Even though the doctors had determined she was fine to be released, Olivia knew that it would take a while for her to get back to normal.

Elliot had come by to see her every day she was in the hospital. He stayed ridiculously late, until she convinced him to go home and get some rest. But she was glad to have the company. His company.

She was weary and still very sore. Her absence became evident as she sorted through the unopened mail and returned the phone calls she had missed.

She had been sleeping much better; in fact, the nightmares had altogether ceased after the night she awoke screaming in Elliot's bed. It was unbelievable the release she felt by simply talking about what Harris had done to her. It was now something that she could think about without completely losing control. It was something she could now move on from.

But now, as she sat in her living room in the total silence, she let some truths start sinking in. She was lonely and unfulfilled. All the things that used to be enough, were no more. This life she was living now was not the one she wanted to live anymore.

It was amazing, she thought, how many things can run through your mind when you're lying in a hospital bed. She thought about the shooting, or what she remembered of it. She thought about her work. And she thought a lot about Elliot.

Both of their lives had changed so drastically. They had been so many things through the last decade, but never what they were now. She still didn't know how to define it, but she knew she wanted more. No labels, no expectations—just more.

They had been held back, denied, and just out of each other's grasp for too damn long. And while she had no idea where it would all end up, she knew that she couldn't live without the journey anymore.

* * *

Olivia took a cab back from the downtown office building, her destination the precinct. Her hands were clammy and shaky, her stomach nauseously twisted.

She swallowed hard as she stepped off the elevator. As she passed down the hallway into the bullpen, she was relieved to see that Elliot was not there.

It was eerily quiet. She tried not to make eye contact with anyone, and made a line straight for Cragen's door. Knocking softly, she heard him beckon her in.

"Olivia," he said with a faint smile. "Good to have you back."

Her stomach lurched, but she smiled anyway. She closed the door.

"Thanks, Captain," she replied. "You got a minute?"

He motioned for her to sit.

It was still so quiet.

Olivia didn't speak, but simply slid the folder she was holding across his desk.

Cragen shot her an uncertain look, and Olivia watched as his expression turned into something else.

They both were quiet.

He scanned the paper and closed the folder.

"Olivia," he began, "if you need more time, it can be arranged."

Olivia swallowed and blinked back the stinging in her eyes.

"Captain," her voice faltered slightly. "It's not more time that I need. I need a change."

He was still as stone at first, but finally nodded, quite begrudgingly.

"I need to find a balance in my life somehow," she said. "And this has been the hardest decision I've ever had to make." And it was.

Silence.

Cragen looked at her wryly, "Well, I can't say that I'm happy for you exactly. But I can understand."

"Please don't mention it to anyone yet," Olivia said with a wavering tone. "I want to tell them myself."

Cragen nodded.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as he said, "It's been more than a pleasure working with you, Detective."


	8. Chapter 8

**Here it is, guys...the last chapter! This story has been such a joy to write; I am really proud that so many people have been following it so faithfully. Hope you all enjoy...and remember that this story is rated M for a reason, people! :D**

Olivia sat comfortably on her couch, draped with a throw, trying to immerse herself in a book. She read a few lines, then stared blankly out the window. A few more lines, more staring. After staying on the same page for half an hour, she abandoned the effort. She sank back onto the couch, hugging her knees to her chest.

She knew she needed to talk to Elliot. Before he found out from someone else. She at least owed him that much.

She had spent a lot of time thinking about her decision, and the mixed emotions she had toward it. She was excited about the chance to delve in to a new career, but at the same time, she was sad because it meant the loss of familiarity. More than a decade in Special Victims—the precinct had basically become her home, and the detectives there her family.

She found herself torn very much between that familiarity and the need for self-preservation. She wasn't changing her mind—there was no place for that now. But the reality still hurt.

This was her chance to finally have a shot at a new life, a happier life. A chance for fulfillment in areas that had been neglected for far too long. A chance to define herself by something other than the job.

That line of thinking ultimately led her to think about Elliot. She wasn't sure how he would react to her news—but she knew, or she hoped, that it would open up new possibilities for them. If there had been any ambiguity about their feelings before, her close call and time in the hospital had opened both their eyes. There was no more denying, no more excuses.

Olivia jumped back to the present when she heard the doorbell. _Food's here, _she thought to herself as she retrieved some money from the kitchen counter.

She padded across the living room, and unlocked the door without even checking to make sure it was the delivery guy. As she swung the door open, her eyes widened. It was not her take-out, but Elliot standing there. She instinctively sank into herself, tugging at the hem of the oversized tee shirt she was wearing.

"Elliot," she stammered, "I…I wasn't expecting you."

He could only stare. Olivia stood before him, clad in a familiar-looking tee shirt, which appeared to be only one of two things she was wearing. She had tried to cover herself, but he couldn't help but catch a glance of the black boy-short panties she was trying so desperately to hide.

"Do you always let the take-out boy see you like this?" Elliot asked, when he was able to form words.

She visibly blushed. Standing aside to let him enter, she continued the struggle to cover herself.

Elliot didn't try to hide his amusement at her apparent discomfort. Olivia scuttled back to the couch, threw the blanket back over her legs, avoiding his stare.

"So, how've you been?" he asked her, taking a seat beside her. "Sorry I haven't been able to come by much lately, work's been insane."

Olivia smiled. "I'm much better, still trying to get my strength back. Doctor says I'm coming along great."

"Good," he replied, "cause God knows we need you back."

Olivia's stomach flopped. She swallowed and forced a smile. _Guess it's now or never._

"Yeah, about that," she said cautiously. "I'm not actually coming back, El."

His brow furrowed and his face lost a full shade of color. He simply stared at her, an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

"I'm taking a few more weeks off before I start my new job," she continued.

Elliot's expression was fading between something like disbelief and fear. _She can't be leaving._

He gathered in a deep breath, and stared off into space. He was brought back by the touch of her hand on his arm.

"Elliot," she almost whispered. "I know I should've already told you this, or at least talked to you about it. I was just waiting for the right time. I guess this is it."

He met her eyes again, his expression softening. He covered her hand with his, and smiled weakly. "I know you haven't been happy for a while. I kind of expected something like this."

Relief flooded her entire body, and she wooshed out a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was for him to be upset with her.

"I even tried to prepare myself for it, ya know?" he said softly. "I've went over it a thousand times in my head," he exhaled. "I don't know if that place can ever mean the same for me without you there."

The tears started to sting her eyes. "I know, El," she said. "I've thought about it every day since I woke up in that hospital. This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I've got to stop being scared to do what's right for _me_," she said, placing a hand on her chest.

Elliot nodded, gripping her hand more firmly. "I know, Liv. You deserve to find what makes you happy. You've sacrificed a lot for that job, and it's time you find out what you really want."

The seriousness was interrupted by the buzzing at the door. "Oh, that's my take-out," Olivia said, bolting up, but then remembering her clothing situation.

"I'll get it," Elliot said with a grin. She handed him the money, and watched him walk to the door to retrieve her dinner.

When he was back, she said, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming or I would've ordered more."

"It's fine, I'm not hungry anyway," he replied. He handed her the bag, and went into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of wine for her and a beer for himself.

"Thanks," she said with a smile, accepting the wine.

He settled in beside her on the couch, uncapping his beer. "So, tell me about this new job."

She explained all about the victim's advocacy job she'd accepted. He listened intently.

"I'll be taking a pay cut," she said, "but I can manage. I'll have a lot more free time, and won't be working those crazy hours anymore. But best of all, I get to help victims on a completely different level. I can get them the assistance they need to get their lives back on track. Plus, my work experience gives me an advantage."

Elliot took a sip of his beer. "You'll be great. I'm happy for you, Liv."

She smiled.

"But I'm not going to lie and say that I won't miss the hell out of you," he added.

"You know you can see me anytime you want," she replied with a smile.

"Is that right?" he joked.

His eyes were deep and studied her intently. After a few silent moments, he said, "I've been wondering where that shirt was."

Olivia smiled, her eyes downcast. "I, uh, sort of took it when I was leaving your place."

Elliot smiled and threw back the rest of his beer.

"Well, it looks better on you anyway," he said with a hint of…something.

Olivia laughed. "And to answer your question from earlier, no I don't usually let the take-out guy see me like this."

He sat down his empty bottle. They were silent.

Her feet had found their way out from under the blanket, and she moved to cover them again. Her breath hitched when she felt his hands stop her. He took her feet and placed them in his lap.

Olivia's heart sped up, not sure of what was going on. His hands were warm on her bare feet, and she felt her tension wane slightly when he began to massage.

His hands worked from her ankle to the tips of her toes, first one foot then the other. It was relaxing and electrifying at the same time. The sensation of his hands on her like this was a new feeling. Something she had never allowed herself to indulge in before.

But she found no protest as his massage worked a little further up her legs. He stroked the calves of her legs with magic fingertips.

Elliot concentrated on his work, noticing and appreciating the muscle tone he felt underneath his hands. Her skin glowed in the dim light, and he found himself wanting to see more.

Olivia felt her whole body start to relax and respond to his touch. She inhaled deeply and when her breath came back out, it was in the form of a soft moan. The sound surprised them both, and hung in the air around them like a heavy fog. But instead of stopping, Elliot continued to massage, tossing aside the blanket that covered her, working a little further up to the space behind her knees.

Olivia made no effort to stop the slow and delicious torture of his hands on her skin. This contact was a release for them both—a release from stress, and from the boundaries that had hemmed them in for so long.

Olivia had relaxed so much that she was almost completely reclined. She was unable to move, to speak. But the relaxation was turning into something more electric.

She held her breath as she felt his hands slide along the outside of her thighs and back down the tops of them. She closed her eyes, but opened them quickly when she felt Elliot's body over her. She stared wide-eyed up at him, as he searched her eyes. When he found no protest there, he let his hands slide across the outside of her hips, taking the hem of the tee shirt with him.

She squirmed beneath his caress, whimpering softly. All that clothed her from the navel down were those damn black panties.

"Oh, God," Elliot gritted out. He exhaled hard.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to see what's under here," he said, running a fingertip underneath the waistband of her panties.

Olivia grasped the couch cushion to keep from falling off the earth. His touch, his words, they were all melding together into the most delectable sensation. She was sure that she had never wanted anyone as badly as she wanted him right now.

Elliot leaned down, placing soft kisses on her belly, down her sides. He grasped the band of her panties with his teeth, and when the fabric snapped back against her, she cried out loudly.

"Elliot," she breathed.

The teasing was becoming more than she could bear. Her hand had been resting on his thigh, and she moved it to put gentle pressure against the crotch of his jeans. She smirked when she felt how tight the material had become there.

Elliot growled his approval at the gesture. His face moved closer to hers. Her shirt was gathered just under her breasts, and he slid a hand underneath, finding no bra to hinder his exploration. She was warm and soft, and she cried out again when the tip of his thumb found her nipple.

And all at once, his caresses halted. She stared at him, trying to read his next move.

"C'mere," she heard him say.

She slowly rose to a sitting position, her face mere inches from his. Olivia's eyes fluttered closed when she felt his hand stroke her cheek.

"Liv," he whispered. "I don't think I ever told you how scared I was when I got that call from Cragen. And then when I saw you, it…it just got to be too much. I really thought I was going to lose you this time."

Olivia smiled softly, placing a hand on his cheek. "I don't plan for that to ever happen."

He ran his thumb over her lips, studying them with fiery eyes before he devoured them. The kiss ignited the air around them like a fueled flame.

She parted her lips, giving him access to consume her. Their tongues slid together as she felt his firm grasp on the back of her neck. He tugged her closer, bringing her into his lap.

His hands broke away to grip her hips, as the kiss continued to deepen. She felt his hands slide underneath her shirt once again, gliding up her back. She shivered and lifted her arms, allowing him to lift the cotton material up and off of her, discarding it to the floor where it belonged.

Elliot was greeted with the sight of her before him, clad only in tiny black panties and the necklace he had given her. He felt a new surge of desire pulse from deep inside him. Her chest was bare and beautiful, and begged for his attention.

Olivia swallowed hard, feeling nervous for the first time since this began. She wanted to live up to any expectation he might have had for her. But as she watched his expression, she smiled at his apparent approval.

He kissed her mouth again, and then moved to tease her neck and collarbone. Olivia moaned loudly at the feeling of his mouth upon her. It was better than she'd ever imagined it could be.

Elliot's exploration moved further down, placing his lips around her hardened nipples, sucking lightly. He was entranced by the quickening of her breath and the sounds that were escaping her.

Olivia felt as if every drop of strength was abandoning her, as she sank harder into his lap. She ground against the hardness she could feel there. Elliot groaned deeply, biting her nipple in the process. Olivia squeaked out a protest.

Elliot pulled back sharply, then laughed at her expression. Her eyes danced, her lips curled in a devious smile.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said against her lips, "I got a little carried away."

"Mmmm," was all she uttered before taking his mouth hard. She pulled back, placing his arms at his side.

"Now, it's time for me to play for a while," she grinned.

She began working on the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, deliberately, she worked her way down until the shirt fell open, exposing his bare chest. She slipped the garment off his shoulders, and with a little help from him, tossed it away.

She placed her palms against the steely muscles she found there. Elliot reached up to grab her hips, but Olivia stopped him.

"Ah, ah, ah," she chided, shaking her head. "No touching."

Elliot growled a protest, to her delight.

She kissed his lips, his neck, shoulders, and pecs. His stomach muscles tightened and he moaned deeply at the sensation of her lips on his skin.

Her kisses trailed down to his stomach—sensuous, teasing movements with an occasional caress with her tongue. Elliot thought for sure that he would explode from the anticipation.

She stopped at the band of his jeans, smiling. She gingerly unfastened the button and zipper, watching as he squirmed with her efforts.

Now all that remained was the thin cotton of his underwear. She ran her fingertips along the bulge of his erection, eliciting a groan from him that sent a charge through her entire body.

All of a sudden she stopped. He looked at her, uncertainty reigning. Then she took him by the hand, beckoning him to stand. No words were spoken as she led him out of the living room and into her bedroom.

She was a beautiful creature, and once they were standing next to her bed, he took the time to admire her. A million times he had fantasized about her; she had been the subject of many early morning dreams that had left him sweaty and hard.

And now, surrounded by the reality of what was happening, his desire was fueled by something deeper. A connection that he craved with this woman, the woman whom he loved.

Her dark eyes looked up into his. Her fingertips skated along his chest. He leant in to claim her lips once again, the passion renewed and changed into something more delicate.

She broke the kiss and sank back onto the bed. He followed her down, looming over her, placing kisses on her taut stomach. He sat up, tugging at her panties, and she raised her hips to allow for their removal.

Olivia, completely naked, wasn't nervous anymore. This was the culmination of years of repressed desire and longing. Her chest heaved with excited breath as she watched him make quick work of the rest of his clothes. He lay down beside her.

She leaned close, kissing him once again, snaking a leg around his hips, forcing their bodies together. She could feel him pressing hard into her inner thigh. She soaked in everything about this moment—his scent, the feel of his skin against hers, the look in his eyes. There was no need to rush.

She recalled the countless times she had girlishly fantasized about what this moment would be like. All the dreams, the blank, passion-filled daytime stares—she had always imagined that their first encounter would be frantic and desperate. But it was evident now that this was anything but.

Elliot's caresses were soft, his lips feathery as they grazed her neckline. He was over her now, and she instinctively reached between them, grasping the hardness between his legs. He bucked against her hand as she stroked him, her hands soft and smooth.

A few moments later, she stopped and sat up. She propped some pillows against the headboard and motioned for him to take his place there. He smiled and took his seat, watching with anticipation as to what she would do next.

She climbed onto his lap, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled down at him as he admired the sight before him. She leant down low, kissing his mouth. He grasped her hips and pulled her even closer. Their bodies collided, they both smiled.

Olivia straightened, running a fingernail across his heaving chest, all the way down his stomach, stopping just short of what else was waiting for her.

She reached between them and grasped him, guiding him to where they both wanted him to be. In one slow, languid movement she sank down, taking him in. Olivia released an erotic, breathless sigh at the sensation.

Elliot gripped her hips hard, his mind and body losing their grasp on the atmosphere. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she writhed against him. He watched her, every movement etched with pleasure. Her head tossed back, her moans ethereal and so addictive. _That_ was a sound Elliot knew he would never tire of hearing.

Her pleasure spurred feelings in him that he didn't even know existed. He matched her rhythm, his breathing and pulse speeding up with every thrust.

Olivia closed her eyes as she rocked against him, every movement bringing her closer and closer to oblivion. She called his name, a soft sound at first. Her body could take little more.

"OH, El," she moaned, "I'm…I'm…"

It was all she could manage before the climax racked her body. Her cries were raspy and loud.

"Liv…," he groaned, thrusting harder into her.

His finish was just as intense. He growled through gritted teeth as the spasms coursed through his entire body.

They remained together after, struggling to come back down. Their breath was ragged, their bodies covered in a fine sweat. Olivia rested her head on Elliot's shoulder.

Neither of them spoke, they just existed. Olivia reluctantly pulled away and flopped onto her side. Elliot sank down into the mattress, pulling the covers over their entwined legs. Olivia rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, her hair fanned across his bicep. She traced lazy circles on his chest with her fingertip.

Her breathing had almost returned to normal, but still she was unable to shake off the feeling of satisfaction that possessed her. It felt so good to finally be _here._

Instead of focusing on the 'what ifs', they now could finally concentrate on each other. She wasn't sure what would happen next, but she didn't need to know, either. No labels, no expectations. Whatever it was, it was enough.

She looked up to meet Elliot's gaze.

"Ya know," she began, "that was pretty incredible, Stabler."

He laughed, an infectious sound. She joined.

"Well, Benson, you weren't too damn shabby yourself."

There was so much release, a tangible relief between them. Ten years of repression and denial were enough. And those years were over.

Olivia sighed, and snuggled closer to him.

Silence settled in around them as they lay together. Their lives had been so tumultuous, so unpredictable—this quiet contact was a welcome alternative.

She thought about the last few months and how they had changed her. Her assault, his divorce, her dissatisfaction at work, and then the shooting. She had come so close to slipping away, but there was one thing she now knew for certain. No matter what took place from now on, no matter what fears gripped her or what doubts paralyzed her--_Elliot could always bring her back_. He had brought her back from loneliness, from the brink of death, from her fear of the unknown.

She knew that her life was forever changed. _This_ was her new life. _This_ was her chance.

"El," she said, breaking the silence. "I never said thank you for being there for me. Through everything."

"I think you sort of just did," he replied with a smile.

She smacked him playfully, "You know what I mean."

He laughed. "I know, Liv. You never have to thank me for that. I was always where I felt I should be. _You've _always been where I was supposed to be."

She knew.

-FIN-


End file.
